


Illicit

by AberrantCaptain



Category: Death Note
Genre: Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 21:02:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4537206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AberrantCaptain/pseuds/AberrantCaptain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A history of Matt's dealings with illicit substances.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Illicit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [oldworldsrunnerup](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oldworldsrunnerup/gifts).



> Had a prompt to write about a character's first time using an illegal substance. It turned into this drabbly shit about Matt.

The first time he smoked, he choked. Ash seemed to fill his lungs and he was left coughing sporadically for several minutes, all while the older boys laughed at him. He’d passed the ill-advised test they had given him. Within three months, he would be smoking regularly, trading favors for cigarettes. By the time he was six, he would be addicted, but it wouldn’t fix the loneliness he suffered from on a daily basis. 

The first time he drank, it was his idea. He’d nicked a bottle of cooking wine to share with a friend on New Year’s Eve. At just shy of ten years old, he was long past caring what was legal and what was not. His age was the only thing in the way. The wine was enough to convince his friend to kiss him, enough that he realized there was something that could make him feel whole. He drank enough that his stomach churned, but he somehow managed not to throw up. His friend would not be so lucky. Later, he would seek out another kiss, but wouldn’t receive it, so he would back off in an attempt to keep what felt like physical chunks missing from his being from multiplying more than they already had.

The first time he shot up, he was a scrawny sweet sixteen in a seedy club in L.A. A wild goose chase had brought him there, and though he would continue searching, it would be another year before he found what he was looking for. As the liquid drug flowed into his veins, he realized he had found something quite unlike the other substances he so regularly abused. He felt warm, loved, and like nothing could possibly go wrong. The lights were bright, and through colored lenses they made him feel like he was in a fantasy world, one much like the games he played on a regular basis. He would be back several times in the following months, seeking to fill the aching hole in his heart, one that had been present since he was old enough to remember the feeling. 

The first time he fucked him—no, the first time he was intimate, truly intimate, with the person he loved more than all three vices combined—he would be left feeling a strange, dull pain in his chest, like ancient, festering wounds were being sewn closed. It would continue to hurt for as long as he feared losing this intoxicant, but, as he would also realize, not as much as not having it at all. As time passed, the pain would subside as his loneliness went away, as the missing chunks were replaced, as the hole in his heart was closed. He would realize shortly after that, for the first time in his nearly two decades of life, he felt complete.


End file.
